by KB Winters
I looked up at him, startled by his angry tone, and found his eyes changed back to ice. Hard, cold, and unfeeling. “Jace, I was just trying to help you,” I said, keeping my voice soft. My hands ached to reach up and run along his jaw, to feel his scruff against my skin.
“I don’t need help,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “This is my home, Kat, not a soup kitchen or food bank. I’m not some fucking charity case!”
“I never said you were!” I flung back, my eyes blazing as I stared at him. “Jace, what is going on? Why are you so angry?”
Jace looked away, and I noted the pulsing at his temple as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
I stepped closer and placed my fingers on the side of his face, wishing my touch could soothe away the tension. Jace snapped back to me, his eyes wide, as though my fingertips had burned his skin, and without a word, he retreated from the kitchen. I followed after him, ready to scream, but stopped short when I watched the slow, pained way he lowered himself into his reclining chair. I couldn’t help myself from looking at the way his gnarled hand struggled to grip the arm of the chair, and my heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces at the sight of my strong, broad shouldered soldier, my hero, my love, so broken and damaged. Defeated by a leather chair.
I hurried to his side, and grabbed his waist, trying to support him and make it easier, but he bellowed out at me. “Just leave! Kat! Get out! I’m too tired for this.”
I held up my hands in surrender and backed away from him. “I don’t know what the hell I did wrong, but fine, Jace. I’ll stop trying, since that’s what you seem to want.”
I spun on my heel and left the apartment, letting the metal door slam closed behind me as I raced down the stairs. I knew he couldn’t chase after me, but what hurt the most was knowing that even if he could…he wouldn’t.
Chapter Three — Kat
I did the best I could to block Jace out, focusing on school and spending time with Jax. We had settled easily back to our original schedule, and I loved having every other weekend with him, especially since those days were usually my only days off most weeks, and I could actually do things with him in the afternoons. One Saturday, we decided to take a picnic lunch to the park a few blocks away from the house. It was chilly as we transitioned into winter, but by the afternoon, the frost had melted away and the sun had come out. Jax and I bundled up into warm clothes, packed PB&J sandwiches and apple slices into a small basket, and walked to the park. Jax played in the leaves, and we ran around together all over the play structure which we had mostly to ourselves since it was a little chilly outside.
We finally wound down to eat, and were in the middle of our sandwiches, when Jax stood from the thick flannel blanket I’d hauled along to sit on. I was about to ask what he saw, assuming it was a squirrel or someone with a dog, when he started wandering away. I craned around to see what he had locked in his sights, but the park looked empty.
“Friend Jace!” Jax squealed, taking off in a full sprint, as fast as his little legs could take him, across the playground. He was running for the street and my heart jolted into a full on hurricane inside of me as I bolted after him.
“Jax!” I screamed after him. I saw ahead of him, where Jace was walking on the opposite side of a very busy street. And although the speed limit was low due to its proximity to the park, people never seemed to slow down.
And my three-year-old was running right towards it.
“Jax, stop!” I cried out, over and over. He was still a few feet ahead of me, and showed no signs of stopping. I screamed out again, and Jace must have heard my voice, because he stopped walking and from across the field, I saw him spring into action.
“Jax! No!” He yelled, throwing himself into motion. He stepped into the street and held out his arms, signaling for the cars to stop. I watched, my legs still pumping as fast as they could go, as a car screeched to a halt, its front bumper ending up less than a foot away from Jace’s legs. The guy behind the wheel laid on the horn, but the noise didn’t faze Jace, but Jax stopped cold at the edge of the street.
I caught up as Jace was finishing crossing the street. “Jax, buddy, you can’t run into the street like that!” His voice was firm, but his face was soft with concern. I knelt down next to my little son who was shaking as he looked at the car that had almost plowed into Jace as it sped off angrily down the street, flipping the bird at Jace’s back. My fists balled up, gallons of adrenaline throwing me into a violent mama bear mode, but Jace’s blue eyes stopped me with a look. He leaned over, his face clenched with a sever grimace, but he didn’t stop until he was eye to eye with Jax. “You gotta be careful, bud. I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay?”
Jax nodded his solemn understanding and wrapped his arms around Jace’s neck. Jace looked up at me and mouthed “it’s okay.”
“Friend Jace,” Jax mumbled into Jace’s shoulder.
“Yeah buddy. We’re friends,” Jace replied, his voice thick with emotion.
I looked away, and brushed a tear from my cheek. The scene was something from the dreams I’d had while Jace had been deployed. The image of him and Jax embraced like father and son had been something I’d longed for to the core of my heart, and now that it was unfolding in front of me, it stung, reminding me that it was one more fragment of those dreams that would never fully come true.
“Come on, bud.” I ruffled Jax’s hair. “I’m sure Jace is busy.”
Jace’s eyes pressed shut against my words. And I wondered if he wished I hadn’t said anything at all.
“Come play, friend Jace!” Jax said, letting go of his hold on him.
Jace straightened, his jaw clenched tight. He looked down at Jax. “I wish I could buddy. I gotta get home and take my medicine though, I’m not feeling very good these days.”
“Oh,” Jax said.
Jace looked at me, his eyes sad and heavy. I knew he didn’t know what to say next, so I leaned over, placing my hands on Jax’s shoulders. “Come on honey, let’s tell Jace to feel better soon, and go back and finish our lunch.”
Jax nodded and waved up to Jace. “Feel better.”
Jace smiled. “Thanks bud. And remember, be careful okay? Stay away from the street. You don’t want to scare your mom.”
Jax smiled up at him and kept waving until he was down the sidewalk and got lost in a thick grove of trees that walled the park off from the noisy street. Only when we couldn’t see him anymore, did Jax finally let me direct him back to where we’d been eating a picnic lunch off to the side of the playground.
* * * *
The following weekend, I took Jax to Mitch and Hannah’s for their weekend. Jax hadn’t spent a full weekend with them since they’d had their baby daughter, Emmaline, a month before. They weren’t sleeping through the night, and had preferred day visits with Jax instead of adding a rambunctious toddler and his even rowdier dog, Mickey, into the mix. I thought it was a little ridiculous, since millions of people around the globe somehow managed to care for both a toddler and a newborn, but I kept my judgment to myself, and instead basked in having so much extra time with Jax.
As soon as I got him out of his car seat, Jax bounded up to the front door, and before I could stop him, rang the doorbell three times in a row. “Jax!” I called over to him. “Shh! The baby is probably sleeping.”
Sure enough, a very disgruntled looking Mitch answered the door a few minutes later. His hair was askew, and I instantly knew that he’d been asleep. As I neared, the lines on his face filled in the blanks, looking like the lines from couch cushions. He glared at me for a moment, as though it was my fault, before leaning down to Jax, who had gone statue still at his dad’s presence. “Jaxy, your baby sister is sleeping. You have to be very quiet.”
As if on cue, Mickey bounded up from where he’d been doing his business on the front lawn, and barreled past Mitch, which—like a chaotic set of dominos—got Jax riled all over again, and without another thought to his dad’s request, charged after the half cra
zy dog, his footsteps thundering on the hardwood floors.
Mitch rolled his eyes and muttered a string of curses under his breath, not giving me another look before turning away and going inside. I was still holding Jax’s small backpack and Mickey’s leash, so I followed behind him, after deciding that dumping the belongings on the welcome mat would be rude.
Truth be told, I had very carefully avoiding Mitch and Hannah’s since they brought their baby girl home from the hospital. Jax had talked all about his little sister, and that had been a hard enough pill to swallow. I smiled and asked polite questions as he told me about it, because my three-year-old son shouldn’t have to filter pieces of his little life, he wouldn’t know that it was hard for his mama to hear. Luckily, Jax’s attention span was short, and his conversations about his sister never lasted too long.
As I stepped into the living room, a few feet behind Mitch, my heart stopped and all the air from my lungs vanished. My feet turned to cement blocks, at the sight of Hannah on the couch, her hair falling around her face in perfect, soft waves, and the heart breaking smile as she looked down into the face of her nursing baby, wrapped in a soft pink blanket. They were in a bubble of quiet, unfiltered joy, and my eyes blurred as I watched. The chaos and noise went silent, and it took a minute for Mitch to jar me from my trance.
“—over on the table…Katherine?”
I snapped to attention at the sound of my name and tore my eyes from Hannah and the small pink bundle, to find Mitch staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “I’m sorry, what?” I asked, my heart sputtering back into a frantic beat.
“You can put the backpack on that table,” he repeated in a cadence like I was mentally slow or hard of hearing.
I stalked to table and when I turned to leave, Hannah was watching me, the serene smile still on her glowing face. “Hey Katherine. We’re just about done here, if you want to hold her,” she said.
“Um—no, no, that’s all right. I have to get going—” I fumbled over my words as I dug my car keys out of my jeans pocket where I’d tucked them on my way into the house. “Thanks, maybe next…another time.”
Hannah smiled, completely oblivious to my ramblings and waved goodbye before turning her eyes back to the perfect face that was still suckling at her.
Jax ran up to me, crashing into my legs, and I nearly fell to the floor. “Jax!” I hissed, annoyed as I righted myself.
“Shh!” Mitch snapped.
I mentally counted to three, not wanting to lose my shit completely. “Come on, baby. You can watch me from the window,” I said, reaching for his hand.
Neither Hannah nor Mitch said anything as I led Jax back to the foyer. I knelt down and hugged him tight, swallowing the lump of emotion in my throat and trying to shove aside the image of Hannah and the baby. I had the best little son in the entire world, and that was enough.
We said goodbye, and Jax and Mickey both sat at the front window as I went out and got into my car. I waved goodbye, choking back tears, and started the engine.
I backed down the drive, my fingers gripping the steering wheel as though it was the edge of a steep cliff, the only thing anchoring me from falling into oblivion. As I pulled out onto the street and automatically headed back to the highway, I lost control of the tears in my eyes, and sobbed all the way back home.
Hilda was outside, tending to her potted plants on the front porch of her neighboring townhouse, and waved as I pulled into my driveway. I swiped at my eyes before getting out of the car, but practically before I even got the driver’s door opened all the way, she was in my postage stamp yard, her dark eyes flooded with concern. “Dear, what’s the matter?”
For a flicker of a second, I tried to manufacture a lie, anything would be better than admitting that I was jealous of my ex-husband’s mistress-turned-wife.
“Come dear,” Hilda said, not waiting for a reply. She gently took me by the arm, and led me up the stairs to her front room, sitting me down on the couch, before going to the kitchen to make us some tea. I knew what she was doing before I even heard the tea kettle being placed on the stove top. Hilda and I had a certain rhythm, and in moments like this one, words weren’t even needed. She knew how to take care of me, even when I didn’t have a clue.
I relaxed my head back against the couch, listening to the familiar sounds as she bustled around the kitchen, and let the warmth of her home seep into my skin.
Moments later, she returned to me, and took the rocking recliner seat opposite my place on the couch. “The tea will be ready in a minute or two,” she said softly.
“Thank you Hilda.” I straightened and gave her a small smile. “I’m all right, I just—” I was stuck, still unsure of how to put words together that would express the absolute mess of emotions wound up inside me. It was Mitch, it was Hannah, it was their precious baby girl, it was my own uncertain, fucked up heart.
Hilda didn’t press, waiting for me to speak, her hands folded patiently in her lap.
“I saw Mitch’s new baby today…when I dropped Jax off. Hannah was feeding her and rocking with her, and it…well, it got to me. I don’t know how to explain it. Something about it just wrecked me.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees, keeping my gaze trained at the carpeted floor, willing myself to keep it together and not start bawling all over again. “It’s so messed up, Hilda. The whole thing. It’s not that I want Mitch’s baby, and I don’t want Hannah’s life or marriage. I just want…” my words trailed off, getting lost in thought as I tried to find the right word to express my deep seeded desire. What did I want? Jace’s baby? I sucked in a breath, the thought enough to feel like a shock to my chest, like someone had just zapped me with defibrillator pads.
I’d never told anyone about Jace’s emails, the dreams we had built together. Neither of us had specifically said anything about having kids together, but the word family was frequently used by both of us. It had been all too easy for me to conjure up the images of what it would have been like to have Jace by my side as I gave birth to our child, to picture a small baby with his bright blue eyes, sideways smile, and dark hair. To picture the baby growing and sitting on his broad shoulders, playing catch with Jax and Jace at the park, to Jace dressed up with a feather boa and a play tea cup at his daughter’s tea party in the backyard…
God, I’d really lost it. I’d really let myself buy into it all.
“Dear, you’ll have that someday too,” Hilda came over and rubbed my shoulders. She stayed silent, and I couldn’t speak. The sharp shrill of the tea kettle called her away, leaving me alone in my mourning.
Lost in the grief of what I’d never had, and was beginning to accept I’d never have.
Chapter Four — Kat
The healing balm of time was finally starting to ease my aching heart as weeks rolled into months. Occasionally, Jace and I crossed paths, but neither of us acknowledged each other. Afterwards, as I went on my way, the sting would start to resurface, but the rebound back to normalcy was beginning to get faster, which, I supposed, was as much as I could hope for all things considered.
Which, is why, when Patrice informed me that I had a special visitor requesting a seat in my section, I assumed it was Hilda. She occasionally stopped by with Jax to visit mama at work, and they would order a cup of soup with extra packages of Jax’s favorite crackers on the side.
“I’ll be right there,” I told Patrice, smiling as I circled back to the kitchen to grab a handful of the plastic wrapped crackers. When I pushed out of the kitchen, I rounded the corner, transferring my tray from my left to right hand…
A tray that clattered to the floor with a huge bang as my eyes landed on a set of broad shoulders.
My heart threw itself into a riot, pounding against my chest as though it was a jail break, and my breaths came in sharp, frantic puffs.
What the hell was he doing here?
At the sound of my tray hitting the floor, most patrons had turned to see me, but Jace remained staring ahead, giving me a minute to get it
together. I stooped over and gathered the dumped food and dishes, scooping them back on the tray, wincing at the lecture the line cook was going to give me when I explained that I needed him to remake the order. It wasn’t particularly busy, but that wouldn’t matter. He’d be pissed anyways. I ducked back into the kitchen, took my verbal whipping, and then stepped back into the dining room. I went to apologize to the table whose food I’d just wrecked, careful to keep my back to Jace’s table. Once I’d smiled and batted my lashes at the group of hungry customers, I took a deep, slow breath, holding it as I spun around to find those blue eyes staring out the window, the reflection of them in the glass meeting mine before he actually turned his head to look at me.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” I said, stepping to close the gap between myself and the edge of his table.
Jace nodded, his eyes still locked with mine, but I noted they were hollow, and darker than usual. “Yeah, well, I didn’t feel right about just disappearing and not saying goodbye…after…everything.”
My breath hitched on the word disappearing.
I searched his eyes with mine. “Goodbye?” was all I managed to say.
He nodded his head slightly. “I’m closing my shop,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of his shop. I looked past him, out the window, and saw that the Inked sign was gone, and I wondered how long it had been since someone had taken it down. I’d stopped watching for him every day, although I couldn’t remember when I’d given up on seeing him. “I can’t tattoo anymore, obviously,” he continued, his voice pinched, full of sour bitterness, as he dropped his gaze to his mangled hand. It was the first time, other than the night I’d found him sneaking around his own shop, that he’d acknowledged his injury.
“Where—when? I mean…” I stopped myself, taking a beat to run my hands along the sides of my head, slicking back any flyaways that had escaped from my low ponytail. “I mean, where are you going?”